


Warmth

by BuddysImpala



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Phil’s not sure he’ll make it, Phin gets very sick, Phin has fire powers and Phil has ice powers, barlyle - Freeform, fire & ice au, very very sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddysImpala/pseuds/BuddysImpala
Summary: Phineas gets very sick and Phillip fears that he won’t make it.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the fire & ice AU developed between me, rewrite-a-million-dreams (creator), and nerdy_snowflake

Nobody ever expected the circus to fall... again.

*

After the fire, after Phineas Taylor Barnum pulled Phillip Carlyle out of the raging inferno, they’d gotten closer. It was everything they weren’t supposed to be — Phillip Carlyle was Born of Ice and Phineas Barnum was Born of Fire, the two were supposed to be natural-born enemies — but after Phillip’s close call, an unexplainable attraction developed between the two of them.

It was wrong. It was impossible. It was deadly. Phillip could freeze Phineas from the inside out and Phineas could set him aflame with a single touch, but they were drawn together despite the differences that were supposed to repel them. Their joined power made the resulting circus show a spectacle of fire and ice coming together as one in a battle of the elements. Together, there could be deadly consequences, but eventually they realized they were stronger together than they were apart.

The risk was worth it.

And not just during the show.

It took awhile to get used to Phineas singeing the ends of Phillip’s coat or Phillip lightly frosting Phineas’s hair, but they both found that they’d started to crave the affection, the intensity. Freezing cold and sweltering heat came together — not to fight, not to kill, but to create something new.

Warmth.

*

Protestors were a common occurrence at the circus, and that night started out no different than any other.

People hated the circus, but they hated that a man _Born of Fire_ found fame and fortune even more. Those Born of Fire were supposed to be the lowest of the low — the third class, even further below normal humans without powers of any sort. They did nothing but destroy things and were meant to be feared and hated. The fact that one of them had found a way to unite the those Born of Fire with those Born of Ice and normal humans was supposed to be infuriating to anyone who understood how the classing system was supposed to work.

That night was particularly bad, as word had spread that P.T. Barnum had recently recruited a new team of fire people. The youngest of his newest recruits, a radiant sixteen-year-old girl named Helena, who had hair as fiery as her powers, headlined their recent show. Her performance angered the protestors as much as it wowed the crowd, and whole new groups of protestors — both normal humans and people of ice alike — arrived outside the circus tents, carrying nooses along with buckets of ice.

“Freeze him out! Freeze him out!”

The circus troupe wanted to go out and fight, but Phineas wouldn’t let them. Anne and W.D. Wheeler — siblings who, despite not sharing Phineas’s fire powers, were born of the lower class — wanted to defend the circus from the protestors, but Phineas refused. As ringmaster, it was his responsibility to keep his circus safe — after the fire had nearly taken his Phillip and destroyed his circus a first time, he realized that that burden shouldn’t have to fall upon anybody else.

Phillip wanted to help Phineas even more than Anne and W.D. did, but Phineas was adamant about him staying safe within the tent most of all.

“Do you know what they could do to you if you tried to fight for my people?” Phineas whispered. He and Phillip stood close, his hands lightly caressing Phillip’s cool cheeks — once ice cold, but slowly heating up underneath the ringmaster’s touch. “I won’t let you get hurt because of me _again_.”

Phillip opened his mouth, but Phineas’s kiss swallowed any and all of his protests.

The kiss ended before Phillip could properly reciprocate, and his responding whine made Phineas chuckle. The ringmaster cradled Phillip’s face, gently running his thumb over the younger man’s lower lip.

“I want you and the others to leave through the back. I’ll go out front and distract them for as long as I can.”

Despite how confident Phineas sounded, Phillip still had concerns.

“Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be home before morning.”

It didn’t slip Phillip that Phineas hadn’t responded ‘yes’ to his question.

But the ringmaster was gone, already leaving the circus tent, before Phillip could point out his mistake.

*

Phineas did not come home that night.

*

They found him at the circus.

He was half frozen.

Ordinarily, fire overpowered ice, but not when a singular Born of Fire faced entire groups of those Born of Ice. Instead of attacking the circus, they’d apparently found more pleasure in attacking the ringmaster himself. He’d been drenched in freezing water and held down as icicles made direct contact with exposed skin. His clothing had been shredded — the man had, thankfully, remembered to change from his ringmaster costume before defending his circus, but the outfit he did wear was in tatters. Patches of his skin had gone blue.

They’d abused him so terribly that he’d passed out there, outside the circus tent. On top of already being terribly injured, his weakened state had been exposed to the chill of the outdoor elements all night.

Phillip was _furious_.

He demanded that they got Phineas home as soon as possible. As much as Phineas would hate giving the protestors the satisfaction, that day’s shows, and most shows in the foreseeable future, were to be cancelled. Their main focus would be to get Phineas’s body temperature up. He was teetering in dangerous territory — any colder and he’d go into a shock that was sure to kill him.

Phineas had had a close call, and it’d all been for defending his circus.

But the worst was yet to come.

*

Phillip was the first to notice that, despite their attempts to warm him up, Phineas still remained unnaturally cold. He drifted in and out of consciousness, leaving the others to figure out what to do.

It was Phillip who suggested they call a doctor. He said he was worried that Phineas wasn’t warming up as he normally would, and the others agreed.

They were all grim when the doctor delivered the news.

On top of his physical injuries, he’d also developed pneumonia.

The doctor could prescribe medicine, but he could not guarantee it would do anything to help Phineas’s condition. Especially with his physical body already being as weakened as it was.

Phillip was desperate. He’d do _anything_ to help Phineas recover.

Even if that meant staying away from him.

Which... was exactly what the doctor said to do. It wasn’t just him. Other members of the circus who were Born of Ice had to stay away from Phineas, too.

But, seeing as most of the troupe had come from the barest of beginnings, just as Phineas had, others Born of Ice were hard to come by. While Phillip knew there were more like him at the circus, he’d only ever spoken to one other — a man named Lawrence who’d been banished from his life of wealth once his secret was exposed, and his ice powers revealed, after almost forty years.

The upperclass was made up, mostly, of those who were Born of Ice, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t oddities. Ice children born to completely normal, powerless families.

Phillip himself had been one of those children, constantly punished for the powers his family considered a curse.

And now, for the first time since finding P.T. Barnum’s circus, he did, once again, believe his power to be a curse — a cruel mistake, a punishment from God.

Those Born of Ice would never grow sick in freezing conditions, nor would they attract such illnesses that came with such conditions. Phillip would not contract pneumonia should he choose to remain by Phineas’s side.

But he couldn’t.

His very presence could mean Phineas’s death.

*

“Pneumonia? I have—“ Phineas was interrupted by a coughing fit, “—pneumonia?”

Phillip felt close to tears as he stood outside the hall, his ear pressed to the door. He could not be with Phineas as the others delivered this news to him, but he could listen.

Somebody — Lettie, most likely — mumbled something that Phillip couldn’t hear.

“Where’s Phillip?”

“P.T., we don’t believe that to be the best idea—“

“I need to see Phillip!”

Phillip’s heart leapt in his throat. His eyelashes wettened with half-frozen tears as he closed his eyes.

“You can see him later,” somebody else spoke up. It sounded like Anne, maybe. “You need to get better first, Barnum.”

“There might not be a—“ another round of terribly harsh coughing, “—later.”

Phillip stiffened. What did that mean?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Barnum. You’ll be good to go as long as you stay in bed and obey the doctor’s orders.

“Don’t you understand?!” Despite the hoarseness of his voice, Phineas was near shouting. He’d lose his voice entirely if he wasn’t careful.

“Understand what?”

A pause.

When Phineas spoke again, it sounded like he was weeping.

_“Pneumonia is what killed my father.”_

*

Phillip couldn’t sleep.

He’d been relocated to another room in Phineas’s mansion. They were on opposite sides of the building now, despite how much it pained them. It really was for the best — Phillip carried his chill wherever he went and others could often feel him coming from a mile away.

His emotions were running rampant, his mind whirling too much for him to properly settle down and get a decent night’s rest. Every time he closed his eyes, frosted tears formed on his eyelashes.

He’d covered the whole room in a thin sheet of frost. Of course, he was unbothered by the cold, but every move, every shift in the bed, resulted in frost clinging to his clothes, his hair. It melted down his back, like a deadly reminder that loomed over his head every second of every day.

He’d kill Phineas.

If Phineas didn’t warm up, if his sickness didn’t fade away on its own, Phillip would kill him. He knew that. Maybe not directly — he was no colder than anyone else Born of Ice, and others among his class had already done enough damage — and Phineas might try to convince him of that, but he knew differently. He knew that he would, ultimately, do more harm than good.

Phillip shuddered again, and the light frost across his eyelashes gave away to full, shuddering sobs. He was extremely aware of the fact that he was alone in this guest bedroom — there was no Phineas on the other side of the bed to comfort him.

Phillip curled into a ball, the ice-covered sheets crinkling around him.

If Phineas died, Phillip would never forgive himself.

*

Phillip tried to ignore the fact that he could hear Phineas’s wailing from the upstairs halls, even as every fiber in his being begged him to go to Phineas’s room, crawl into bed with him, and never let go.

Phineas was getting worse. It went unspoken in the home, but everyone knew it was true. Eventually, Charity — Phineas’s ex-wife with whom he was separated for over a year, but still considered a best friend — came around to pick up Caroline and Helen, and took them back to her parents’ house.

Though Charity no longer lived with Phineas, she informed him that she would be back after a few days to help care for the man. Everybody prayed that he wasn’t looking upon his last few days on Earth, but they also knew it was a very strong possibility. Phineas seemed to be growing sicker instead of better.

And every day, he called for Phillip.

Every day, Phillip ached to go to him. He wanted more than anything to cradle Phineas again, to run his fingers through the man’s wavy hair and kiss his cheeks and mutter that everything was going to be all right.

But he believed that he could not. He believed that Phineas would die upon contact with him, and so every day he fought to ignore the temptation, even as the ache to go to Phineas grew with every day they were apart.

He continued like that for as long as he could.

Until the day things changed.

*

“He wants to see you.”

Phillip looked up. He’d just gone down to the kitchen to raid Phineas’s liquor supply, and he’d slipped back up to his room without being caught, but Anne came to his room before he ever had the chance to open the first bottle. He looked upon her now as she stood in the doorway, hair uncharacteristically frazzled, eyes red-rimmed.

“What?”

The girl pretended not to notice the unopened bottle clutched tightly in Phillip’s hand, the lid frosted over with ice.

“He’s made a request to see you.”

“He always wants to see me,” Phillip muttered, glaring down at the bottle. “What makes today any different?”

“Phillip...”

Something about Anne’s tone of voice made Phillip’s head snap up. He had no choice but to watch in horror as tears streamed down her pretty face. She made no move to wipe them away.

“You know I can’t see him,” Phillip choked out, “so what makes today any different?”

He dreaded her answer.

After a beat of silence, Anne — strong, confident, beautiful Anne — bowed her head. Her voice trembled.

“We don’t think he has much time left, Phil.”

Her voice cracked.

His world shattered.

His vision blurred as he tried to focus on her. “Wh-What?”

“Won’t you please... come see him?”

Phillip felt dizzy. He wanted to vomit.

“He wants to see you.”

As Phillip stood up, his entire world crumbled around him.

*

Phineas could feel Phillip coming before he could see him. He could feel the intense chill coming closer, and weakly lifted his head, eyes shining with tears.

“Phillip,” he called out, voice barely a murmur. His throat ached with the effort of talking, and an ice cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He leaned his head against the side of the fireplace and his eyelids dropped, but he fought to keep them open.

The doorknob frosted over and a chill seeped in underneath the door as the knob twisted.

Phineas’s eyes opened just enough to watch his Phillip enter the room.

 

*

Just as those Born of Ice were immune to the cold and any sicknesses it brought along, those Born of Fire were immune to fire and could never be burned by its deadly flame. When Phineas rescued Phillip, the flame did not burn him as it did Phil. It did not burn his skin and, though ash had clung to his clothes, he escaped from the fire unscathed.

Now, Phillip gaped at the sight that awaited him in Phineas’s — what had previously been their — bedroom.

A large fireplace took up the majority of one wall, and a fire had been lit inside. Lettie — who, like Phineas, was Born of Fire — stood close to the flame and tended to it, at no risk for being burned.

Inside the fireplace, among the flames that licked along his clothes, sat Phineas, eyes closed as he leaned his head against the side of the fireplace.

Phillip couldn’t help but gape at the sight of Phineas in the fire. Behind him, Anne squeezed his shoulder, eyes sad, but not surprised.

This was not the first time he’d been subjected to the raw heat of the flame.

Phineas’s eyes opened and his smile, though weak, made Phillip’s heart skip a beat or two in his chest.

“Darling,” the ringmaster rasped.

Phillip cringed and, not meaning to, subconsciously shrunk back against Anne. His breath came out in quick, shallow gasps as he looked Phineas over.

Despite sitting in a flame that would surely kill Phillip, Phineas’s lips were blue and there was a pale, sickly undertone to his skin. Phillip wasn’t sure Phineas was even aware of it, but his body trembled with an invisible chill.

Phineas was literally sat in the midst of hot flame... and it still was hardly helping him, if at all.

A weak cry escaped Phillip’s lips and his legs buckled. Anne had to wrap her arms around him to hold him up as he sagged against her.

“Phillip,” Phineas whispered. At the sight of his Phillip in such distress, fresh tears filled Phineas’s eyes and he reached out for him.

“Phin,” Lettie warned.

“It’s all right,” Phillip whispered. He forced himself to stand upright again, Anne’s hand a comforting presence against his back. His eyes locked on Phineas and he watched as the flames danced and flickered in Phineas’s sickly eyes.

“How are you?”

It was a stupid question. The man was practically on his deathbed. But Phillip was at a loss for what to say.

Phineas caught the irony in Phillip’s question and, despite how he felt, his lips twitched in a familiar way that made Phillip’s heart crack. “I’ve been better.”

Phillip whimpered softly, but he forced himself forward on trembling legs.

“Stay back,” Lettie reminded him. He saw the hurt in her eyes — she didn’t want to keep him away from Phineas any more than he wanted to stay away, but she had to. It was for Phineas’s own good.

Phillip lowered his eyes and settled on the floor. He sat a fairly safe distance away from Phineas, but was just close enough to feel the heat of the fire against his skin.

He wondered how it felt to Phineas.

For a moment, his head remained bowed, his eyes flickering to look at anything but Phineas. Then Phineas called his name and Phillip lifted his head.

“Talk to me,” Phineas begged.

Phillip cringed. The rasp in Phineas’s voice scared him, as did the way Phineas weakly held himself up against the fireplace. The ringmaster’s eyes begged him, though, and Phillip nodded. He forced a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs.

“I love you,” Phillip whispered. His hands itched to reach forward and hold Phineas’s hands or cradle his face, but he burned almost easier than an ordinary human. He pressed his hands firmly into his lap.

His eyes flickered to meet Phineas’s, and he was alarmed to see the man’s eyes filling with tears. He scooted forward as much as he dared and started to reach out again.

“Phineas,” Lettie warned again.

The sickly ringmaster flinched, tears threatening to spill over as he stilled.

A lump formed in Phillip’s throat. He couldn’t handle seeing Phineas cry under normal circumstances, and he feared that if the ringmaster cried now it just might break him. So he pressed on.

At first, he didn’t know what to speak about. What topic of conversation could be appropriate in a time like this?

But then Phineas requested that Phillip tell him a story.

Phillip’s lips shook as he closed his eyes, considering. Then he took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and began to speak.

“There was once an elephant with the biggest ears anyone had ever seen...”

Phineas brightened a little at that. Elephants were his absolute favorite animal in all the world. And so Phillip continued, speaking in a low, soothing voice, as he told Phineas tales about the elephant who could fly.

But, they couldn’t avoid the reality of their situation forever.

After his story, Phillip was at a loss for what to say. As his mind whirled, Phineas spoke before he had the chance.

“I... want to... hold you,” Phineas whispered.

Phillip’s lips trembled. He wanted so terribly to be held, to feel Phineas’s incredible heat against his skin, but he couldn’t find the words to say so.

“I love you so much, Phillip.”

His voice was so faint, Phillip had to strain to hear him. Phillip was certain he would start crying before Phineas did.

If he started crying, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from jumping into the fire just to be with Phineas.

If he started crying, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop.

The tears shined in Phineas’s eyes, too. Because Phillip remained so silent, he was forced to fill the silence — and his words thoroughly chilled Phillip through and through.

“I wanna hold you,” he whispered again. Phillip felt terrible — Phineas’s throat must be killing him, but Phillip couldn’t think of a single thing to say — but can only listen in silence as Phineas began to ramble. “I w-want to hold you and k-kiss you, illness be damned, and—“

“You know you can’t do that, Barnum,” Anne murmured.

“It’s my last chance!”

Phillip jumped as Phineas, somehow, found the strength to shout. He doubled over immediately after in a coughing fit, tears streaming down his face as Phillip looked on in horror.

“I’m going to die,” Phineas moaned, “I’m going to die, but I don’t... I don’t w-wanna die. Wanna hold Phillip. Wanna kiss Phillip. Phillip, Phillip.”

“Phineas,” Phillip choked.

Phineas’s entire body shuddered as he sobbed, tears of ice rolling down his cheeks, the fire around him flaring up in fresh, angry flame. He curled in on himself in a fetal position, and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Phillip had never seen Phineas so... vulnerable.

“I’m going to die,” Phineas moaned, “I’m going to die, just like my father, and I’ll never be able to—“

“Phineas, please,” Phillip begged, voice cracking. “You’re not going to die. You’re going to live, Phin, for a long, long time b-because... because I love you, God, and I _won’t let you die!_ ”

Phillip was now sobbing himself. He felt so foolish — he was not helping matters any — but hearing Phineas speak of dying crumbled him inside.

Phineas couldn’t die. He couldn’t. If he died—

A fresh round of tears wracked his body. He’s so distracted, wrapped up in his own grief, that at first he didn’t register Anne’s shriek or Phineas’s strangled, “Phillip.”

When he looked up, he realized that nearly the entire room — creeping, even, toward Phineas’s fireplace — is covered in a thick layer of ice.

Black ice.

Before Phillip could even register what’s happening, Anne yanked him up by the shoulder. Hurriedly, she tried to shuffle him out of the room.

“We need to get you out of here,” she muttered in his ear.

As they stepped out of the room, Phineas _screamed._

_“PHILLIP!”_

Phillip crumbled again, grabbed for the wall. He moaned as he struggled to support himself.

“Phineas... I’m here...”

He sobbed as Anne helped him down the hall, and his sobs turned to screams as sheled him further and further away.

“I need to go back,” he begged Anne. He clung to her arm, tried to dig his heels into the floor as she led him away. “He needs me. Please. He needs me.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

They arrived at his bedroom and she kissed his cheek, promising that she would be just down the hall if he needed her.

After she left, he crumbled.

Phineas was dying. That much he knew. He’d never be able to hug him again... never be able to kiss him... never be able to feel his warmth...

Phillip laid on the ground, crumpled. He wanted to cry, but had no tears left.

Around him, the frost melted. Ice receded, returning to his body, leaving him lying in a cool puddle of water. His eyes burned with the effort of crying and his chest ached as every remaining drop of energy leaked out of his body.

That was how he fell asleep, on the floor, curled in on himself.

Alone.

*

He woke after only a few hours.

Without having to even need to think about it, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep again until he saw Phineas.

Phillip rose from the floor and peeked out the window. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but there wasn’t a lick of light outside.

Good. Perhaps that meant Anne and Lettie would be asleep and unable to prevent him from seeing Phineas.

He went for the door, but, just as his hand closed around the knob, he froze.

He couldn’t go out there. Not yet.

He would freeze Phineas through and through.

As much as it would hurt him, he had to find ways to heat up before going to see Phineas. His skin tingled at the thought of it, but he knew there was no other way.

He would not bring Phineas any more discomfort.

*

Phillip’s skin was alight with heat, having nearly overheated himself, but he told himself that it was worth it. He carried a candle with him down the hall, partially so it could help him see and partially so he wouldn’t freeze over the hallway, and he lifted the candlestick close to his face.

He was close.

The halls were dark and silent, but he paused at Phineas’s door to give it a soft knock.

He didn’t get a response, but, figuring that Phineas would too be asleep at this hour, he tried not to overthink it. He blew his candle out and opened the door.

Phineas’s room was dark and silent, save for the cracking of the dying fire’s orange embers.

Phineas slept inside the fireplace.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Phillip silently closed the door behind him and crept over to the fireplace. He knelt down and, for a moment, just watched Phineas sleep. The older man’s raspy breaths were loud and heavy in the silence, and Phillip’s gut twisted as he observed how difficult it was for Phineas to simply... breathe.

As Phillip watched Phineas, he knew that the heat that singed his body would fade away soon. There was still fire in the fireplace, but it’d nearly died out. The embers were still hot, hot enough to keep Phineas properly warm, but he was no longer engulfed in flame as he had been earlier.

If Phillip wanted to act, he had to do it now. While they both still had enough heat.

He took a deep breath.

Then he leaned into the fireplace and enveloped Phineas in a strong, risky, beautiful hug.

Their body temperatures were only a few degrees apart.

Phillip held onto Phineas, unwilling to let go, and it was in this position that he felt Phineas stir underneath his touch. Tears filled Phillip’s eyes as Phineas opened his and their gazes locked.

It took Phineas a moment to register what he was looking at.

“Phillip?”

“Shhh. It’s me, Phineas. It’s me.”

Despite his illness, Phineas mustered up all of his strength to hug Phillip back. Phillip’s tears fell into Phineas’s hair as he stroked the wavy locks, never wanting to let go.

After a moment, though, something seemed to click with Phineas. He weakly tried to push Phillip away.

“Phillip, you — you can’t be in the fire.”

“It’s not much,” Phillip whispered. He was uncomfortable, but he could bear it. “I’m all right. The fire’s almost out.”

When Phineas pulled away, though, he could see that Phillip wasn’t truly “all right.” The remnants of the fire did not burn him, but it was still much too hot. His face was red and flushed, and strands of his hair stuck to his forehead.

But his smile was white and shining and beautiful.

Phillip pulled Phineas close again and kissed him. He clung to Phineas, held him close, sucking up every moment of this as he could before his body temperature dropped again.

Phineas cried into the kiss — normally his tears were hot enough to burn Phillip, but the temperature was bearable. Phillip could taste the salt of his tears. But neither man moved to break the kiss, and when Phineas leaned forward it was only to allow Phillip to scoot back out of the fireplace without breaking contact.

Phineas clung to Phillip, held him close, kissed him like he needed him to breathe.

And maybe he did.

Phillip was the first to break the kiss, and he gasped as they pulled away. He could no longer ignore how hot he was so he had no choice, but to step back away from the fireplace and remove a layer or two of clothing.

But he stayed.

They talked.

And, for the first time in ages, they both laughed.

Phillip slept in their bed that night. Above the covers — maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten a little hotter than he’d like to admit.

Phineas remained in the fireplace, but he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

They both did.

*

Anne and Lettie were about ready to murder them when they found Phillip asleep in their bed the next morning.

It was worth it.

*

Days passed. Phillip was banished from seeing Phineas, and it hurt him, but it was as if he’d been rejuvenated after spending that night with Phineas. He missed him — God, he missed him so much — but somehow he felt... at peace.

As if it was all going to be all right after all.

Slowly, but surely, Phineas was getting better.

*

One night, Phillip dreamed that Phineas was lying in bed with him. He hated dreams like this — they came frequently after Phineas got sick, and he always woke up to a cold, empty bed. The arms wrapped tightly around his waist disappeared, and it left him longing for Phineas all that more.

That morning, the arms did not disappear.

Phillip stirred and felt the ghosting of lips against his ear.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

*

Phineas was still weak and his body temperature still wasn’t quite what it should be, but he was getting better. He no longer had to rely on fire to heat himself up, and, as Phillip could not contract pneumonia himself, they were permitted to sleep in the same bed again.

As long as Phillip wrapped himself up in plenty of covers.

*

One morning, a few days after Phineas first surprised Phillip in bed, he managed to surprise the younger man again. Phillip woke to a breakfast tray from Phineas — eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy, and a tall glass of fresh orange juice.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Phillip protested.

Phineas’s smile is small, sad, and achingly beautiful.

Neither of them said a word, but they both knew that, had Phillip not come into Phineas’s room that night, Phineas very well might have given up.

Phillip thought he would be the one to send Phineas to his grave, but it was because of him that Phineas was still breathing and newly healthy.

*

When they kiss for the first time after Phineas is officially declared healthy by a doctor, it brings back painful memories. Memories of Phillip longing to hold Phineas in his sickness, memories of Phineas screaming for Phillip to come back, memories of Phillip kissing Phineas in that fireplace.

But it also brings warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very much appreciated 👀


End file.
